


Dreading the Loss of Numbness

by Razorlace



Category: Hannibal (TV), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Consort Bilbo Baggins, F/M, Hallucinations, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Poor Thorin Oakenshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razorlace/pseuds/Razorlace
Summary: When Thorin awakes he is no longer himself.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Francis Dolarhyde/Reba McClane
Kudos: 6





	Dreading the Loss of Numbness

“Buh.” 

The creeping green light surrounding him yet focussing him. Darkness all around but for the swirling light. 

“Buh. Puh.”

He can see them, all blonde hair and blue, no green eyes, no blue. Or brown. Unseeing brown, almost black. And dark skin, rather than golden. _No, stop, it’s too high, he’s up too high, where’s my beard? Cannot speak, must find Bilb-_

The sharp whine in his head that drowns out all thought of life before, that calls his friend to him…

  
“Buh.”

  
Happy smiling faces so eager to be sacrificed to his monstrous appetite.

  
“Reh.”

  
The feeling of soft fur beneath his fingers and softer skin touching his hand, his face, his lips.   
He knows these hands, these feet, but this body is not his own.

_What’s that clicking sound? So fast, it hurts behind my eyes, help me!_

“Buh.”

  
His back feels tight and pinched, maybe hunching over like this will aid him in his strettransformationching. His beardless face- souglydeformeddisfigured- turns to his master, his closest friend and protector. He is so beautiful. 

  
“Reh.”

  
So very beautiful. He is fire. He is death. He is, the Great Re-  
 _Slug. Grown slow and fat in his dotage. What would his amrâl want with him now, beardless, wholly opposite to his sanûrzud form?_

“Meh.”

**Behold, him!** _The hobbit pleads, stop this_ nightmarish charge _\- No- I see you- you who would betray me!- that which drove me, drives me to lift you above the wall,_ to lift you into the glory of your becoming! _He cares not for mewling supplications, and neither does_ the Great Red Dra-

“Keh.”

  
_Don’t hurt him please! I don’t want to give him to you! Please spare_ her _him_ **them** _-_

What was he what is he what will he be what was he… becoming…?

  
With the taste of paper and ink and chalk on his tongue. 

  
_**Becoming.** _

  
**The-**

  
“Du”

  
_No!_

  
**Great-**

  
“Bek”

  
**Red-**

  
“HAHR”

  
**DRAGO-**

“Thorin?”

  
The hobbit under the mountain shook his husband awake. _Franc-_ Thorin’s roar of fear was strangled within his chest as he bolted upright. Bilbo was staring at him, his face the very picture of loving concern. 

“A nightmare. It just stunned me, tis all.” He brought up a hand to wipe tentatively over his mouth, feeling it whole and unmarked under his thumb while the phantom feeling of tight flesh remained. Looking around their chambers he saw a bowl of fruit that Bilbo kept to ward off night-time hunger pangs. Thorin found himself drawn to a small dark fruit. They had been rinsed earlier to remove any road dust from the caravan. He could see his face in one of them. The dwarf called out to his husband. 

“Can I have a plum?”

“Of course.” Came the cheery reply. Thorin plucked the fleshy orb from the bowl. He brought the fruit to his lips, inhaling the slightly bitter scent. 

  
_Save yourself. Kill them all._

  
He bit into the plum. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just finished season 3 of Hannibal today. Loved it, saw a connection, banged this out in half an hour. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
